


Fun With Alcohol

by Vince_Vallery



Series: Hummel Family Values [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M, Parental Discipline, References to Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Spanking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:56:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vince_Vallery/pseuds/Vince_Vallery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the April Rhodes episode</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun With Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously set during season 1 episode 5: The Rhodes Not Taken

“Oh Bambi, I cried so hard when those hunters shot your mommy.”

Kurt woke up on the couch in his livingroom remembering those words had passed his lips but little else. Looking down he discovered he was wearing a comfortable sweater and yoga pants? “Wasn’t I..?” pushing himself up to sit Kurt winced at the pounding in his head and ache in his back. 

Hearing movement from the other room Burt grabbed the glass of ice water and headed out to see what condition his son was in. “How’s your head?” he asked hanging over the water “doya remember any of what happened after you puked on that skittish counselor?” he continued after his first question received only a pained expression for an answer. 

“I threw-up on Miss Pillsbury?” Kurt groaned. Putting the glass aside Kurt curled over his raised knees, “she must have been traumatized,” he breathed before looking at his dad over his folded arms. “I can’t have aspirin?” Kurt whimpered. 

Nudging the abandoned water back toward Kurt Burt nodded, “I heard she went to the emergency room. She should have taken you with instead of letting you’re friends take you to the nurse’s office. And no you can’t.” As Burt recounted all of what must have been forgotten in the inebriated haze, and reminded Kurt that he was still dad, Kurt followed the silent order and drained the cool water then held the glass fretfully between both hands. 

“Give that here.” Burt ordered hand out, “you’re dehydrated. Get more fluid in you and that headache will let-up.” as soon as the empty glass was in his hands Burt was back in the kitchen refilling it. Returning to the front room Burt found Kurt standing, well leaning, blanket in one hand head in the other. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Burt asked humorlessly. “Straighten up.” Kurt replied equally matter-of- fact, “since I’m home I might as well get some cleaning done.” he argued, voice raising as Burt gave him a stern swat then steered him back to sitting down. “You’re going to rest.” Burt informed laying Kurt down again, “we are going to talk about this later.” he promised, “but for now you need to recover.” 

Leaning down Burt gave his son a tight hug, lifting much of that slight upper body off the couch. Reluctantly releasing the protective hold, after Kurt mentioned that he might need to breath, Burt turned the tv to some wedding show on TLC that Kurt might relax and watch or fall asleep to. “Drink that.” Burt instructed pointing at the glass, “I’m going to make you some soup in a bit.”

“Dad.” Kurt broke in, “It’s just a hang over.” resting a pale hand on the work roughened one rubbing his thigh Kurt gave his dad his awkward smile, “I’ll survive.” he reassured. “You’d better.” Burt joked then turned serious, “I don’t like thinking that my little boy could have died from alcohol poisoning.” he confided, “That’s a completely avoidable situation...”

“DAAaaad!” Kurt whined cutting Burt off again, “can’t you save the guilt trip for went my head isn’t in pain?” he requested turning onto his side clutching a pillow to his painful head. Giving Kurt’s bottom another firm smack Burt made to leave, “and that headache is who’s fault?” 

Before making it completely out into the kitchen Burt heard rustling from the body on the couch. “Dad.” Kurt called. When Burt turned around again he found his little boy staring at him over the arm of the couch. “Wasn’t I wearing a suit when I left for school this morning?” he asked confused and clearly uncomfortable. 

“You barfed all over it in the truck on the way home.” Burt told honestly. Nodding Kurt vaguely remembered...something, “did you give me a bath?” he eventually asked horrified. Burt decided not to answer and opted instead to start making the promised soup. Kurt, likewise, concluded that he really didn’t want to confirm his hazy drunken memory and settled for watching the documentation of gypsy and Irish traveler culture in England. 

Reaching over for the water he was prescribed Kurt found he was wearing his comfy ‘cram’ sweater. It was bought for him by his dad before Burt was informed that thrift store shopping was more strategical then finding something that mostly fits and doesn’t have to many holes in the body. Kurt secretly loved that oversized faded grey sweater but it wasn’t fashionable enough for public appearances. Curling up in the warmth of his beloved sweater Kurt fell quickly to sleep.

Less then five minutes later Burt peeked in finding Kurt dead to the world remote in hand and empty glass tucked between his side and the back of the couch. Taking the remote and placing it on coffee table then fishing the glass out of the couch Burt placed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead but left him to sleep it off. 

Burt had had plenty of first hand experience with hangovers and part of him found the humor of his baby faced boy dealing with a bad one. But the father in him wanted to alternately tan his hide, cuddle him up and protect him from the adult world, and find whoever gave him the booze and punch that person right in the mouth. As he half-watched Kurt nap Burt contemplated all of those things. The first was definitely going to happen but now that Kurt had proven he wasn’t a child anymore the second wasn’t an option. That idea of exacting some pain on the person that offered his son the alcohol was tempting though. 

By the time Kurt roused again he was feeling considerably better. Burt had nudged him awake just enough to down a glass of water every thirty to forty minutes but never fully woke him. He had slept like that for over three hours. It was still light outside but his dad wasn’t in the room with him and for a moment Kurt believed he had slept right on threw the night and it was five a.m. 

Crawling off the couch Kurt made it to the bathroom before his bladder exploded from all the re-hydrating. After washing his hands he took a moment to look himself over in the mirror, and he looked like hell. His hair was a mess and his normally pale face was ghostly white with dark rings around his eyes. “Kurt?” he heard his dad call from the other room and decided that was more important then fixing his face. But he did run a brush threw his hair. 

“How’s the head?” Burt asked handing over a glass filled with cranberry juice then sat on the end of the messy couch. “Better, a lot better.” Kurt replied curling up next to his dad. “I made soup.” Burt stated breaking the quiet that had come over their house, “do you want to eat or talk first?” he then asked resting his head on the top of Kurt’s silken hair. He knew from a life time with his kid that Kurt would agonize if Burt made him do one or the other so it was always better to make him choose. “Can we eat in here?” Kurt asked resting his chin on his curled knees, “I’ll consider it.” dad answered already knowing he was going to give in to that request.

“I think I’d rather ‘talk’ first.” Kurt decided taking a deep breath while meeting his dad’s eyes, “get it over with.” He nodded, another awkward smile gracing his face. Burt nodded too but his face was grim. Burt had a lot of time while his child slept to think about what happened and how to prevent it from happening again. What he decided was going to be hard.

Taking the utility knife from the drawer in the coffee table Burt handed it to his curled up son. When Kurt’s glasz eyes tracked from the utensil to Burt’s face full of questions Burt wanted to stop. “You’re going to take that out to the yard and cut a switch.” he forced himself to instruct but Kurt was already shaking his head horrified. When he made to stand, dropping the plastic cased knife, Burt caught his wrist and pulled him between his knees. 

Resting his hands on Kurt’s sides Burt tried again, “yes, Kurt. You are going to cut a switch, and for the love of God not a thin one, and bring it back to me.” he ordered releasing his son.

“Please no....Dad.. Please.” Kurt tried tears slipping down his face fast and thick. The lithe boy was unsure he could even make it to the yard without collapsing from terror.

Burt just put the utility knife back in his hands and gave him a quick swat to get him moving, “sooner you get it the sooner we’ll be done.” he offered.

“I changed my mind.” Kurt declared spinning around once then stopping to face his dad, “I want to eat first.” he cried desperately. 

It was Burt’s turn to shake his head, “go.” he ordered again with a point to the door, “you have ten minutes starting now to get a branch and get back here.” he steeled his voice, even though Burt wanted more and more to pull his son into a hug and forget punishment entirely, “if I have to come help you it’ll only get worse.” he warned reminding himself of what could have happened.

And that got Kurt moving. He was out the door before Burt could finish his warning and looking at the handful of greenery in their yard. Dad had said not to get a thin branch so the willow was out, that left the apple trees or those bushes in the front and Kurt was not going into the front yard while he was crying so hard. So he looked for a ‘switch’ on one of the apple tree that was neither to thin or a full branch. 

Eight minutes later a nicely cut and clean switch was thrust before Burt who could really only look at his teary eyed son for a moment before taking the branch in his own hand. Perfection in everything, Burt couldn’t help thinking as he handled the stripped limb, Kurt never did anything half way. 

“Why are we doing this?” Burt asked holding the switch in both hands staring at the floor in front of him. This was the harshest punishment he had ever given and though he knew Kurt would argue Burt would say it was harder on him. To inflict that sort of pain on his fragile child was heartbreaking to Burt. What was more heartbreaking, as Burt just kept reminding himself, was the thought that Kurt was so close to liver failure. 

“Because I got drunk..” Kurt started uncertainly, “I was drinking alcohol, which is inappropriate for someone my age.” he added more sure if a little rushed.

“That’s part of it.” Burt nodded bending the branch a bit, “drinking is inappropriate for a sixteen year old.” putting the discipline device aside Burt pulled his son between his legs again, “how much you drank.. Kurt you where really close to a dangerous situation.” he choked.

When the first tear Kurt had ever seen fell from his dad’s green eyes the slender boy collapsed onto his lap thin arms wrapped protectively around broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry dad.” he repeated over and over again. “Please don’t cry. I’m alright, it’ll never happen again.” and the water works began. Kurt had been in tears since he was handed the utility knife but all that was sniffles in comparison. He was sobbing convulsively, barely able to breath, into his dad’s shoulder. And Burt, he quietly wept crushing Kurt to him.

After a minute or two of that Kurt’s weak voice asked, “can you please spank me now?” and that broke the mood. Burt laughed hoarsely pulling his son up so they could make eye contact. “Yeah, lets get that done and clean the slate.” he agreed.

Since Kurt was already in his lap Burt just maneuvered him over his knee. “Tell me again why we are doing this.” he ordered soberly. 

“Because I put myself in danger by consuming entirely to much alcohol. Which was inappropriate for me, being a minor, to have anyway.” Kurt stated elegantly.

“Good job.” Burt praised. He’d always said Kurt was a perfectionist and that admission of guilt was as thorough as the stripped and scrubbed switch by his side.

Tugging yoga pants and jocky shorts off of Kurt’s pale butt in one go Burt landed the first series of spanks. “I don’t understand Kurt,” Burt started lecturing as he rained swats all over his son’s rear, “you’re a smart, sensible, kid. Why would you do something so stupid.” 

Though Kurt knew that question wasn’t he pushed up just enough so he could be heard, “I wanted the whispers and stares to stop bothering me.” he answered voice raw. “Well drinking yourself to an early grave isn’t the way to do that.” Burt replied doubling the strength of the swats to Kurt’s butt. 

After a good round of hard spanks Burt stopped resting his hand on Kurt’s shuttering back. “Since what you did was so dangerous..” Burt cut himself off lifting the switch. 

Ten was the number Burt settled on. Kurt was whimpering, “no...please.” quietly over and over long before the first strike of the switch. The scream that first hit produced was kin to a horror movie vixen being ripped open. Taking a breath Burt reminded himself for the hundredth time that he couldn’t let this go lightly. 

Steeling himself Burt lifted the switch again. The swishing of it cutting the air sickened him. The crack of it hitting Kurt’s fleshy rear and piercing scream of pain had him wanting to throw the switch in disgust. Still he soldiered on bringing it down three times as quickly as he could while still aiming. 

Kurt was back to convulsions, crying so hard Burt was afraid he was going to throw up. Putting the switch down again Burt rubbed his son’s back soothingly and murmured nonsense until Kurt wasn’t coughing violently anymore. “We’re not done.” Burt warned, “I need you to calm down some, you’ve puked enough today, we’ve go five more then it’s all over.” he told then waited another few minutes.

After a bit of silence Kurt nodded his head, “ok, I’m ready.” Picking up the switch again Burt warned, “I’m going to start again.” then landed a strip of pain right across Kurt’s upper thighs. 

For his part Kurt bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop himself from screaming anymore. The next two landed quickly one after the other, but the fourth caught the crease of Kurt’s butt causing him to gasp. The last crossed the previous one and Kurt couldn’t help but scream at that. 

Once he reached ten Burt dropped the switch not caring where it land and pulled his child up into his arms. Rocking gently he repeated, “it’s over.” and ,“we’re done.” until Kurt’s breathing evened then he simply rocked in the lull. 

“Hey kid?” Burt started, “would you do me a favor and never make me do that again.” 

To that Kurt laughed weakly, “I’ll try.” he offered hands retreating underneath his sweater sleeves so he could wipe his face, drinking was definitely detrimental to his skin.

“Just want it to be crystal clear that there is no excuse for using any mind altering substances.” Burt clarified. “Nothing like this will happen again.” Kurt promised sliding from his dad’s lap. 

Most the rest of the night passed quietly. Kurt demanded he get to do the dishes which resulted in him cleaning half the kitchen before Burt chased him back into the front room for more rest. 

As the two watched ‘Bringing up Baby’ on AMC Kurt turned away from the movie glasz eyes focusing on his dad. “So earlier today when you told me I threw up on my clothes?...” 

“Yes Kurt, I gave you a bath.” Burt confirmed watching his son’s face turn red then break into a fit of laughter that he joined happily.


End file.
